


Licking Petals

by birdsandivory



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Almost Coffee Shop/Flower Shop If You Squint, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Curse Breaking, Curses, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Galra Shapeshifters, Galra!Keith, Herbalist!Pidge, Keith is a literal angry cat, M/M, Oracle!Allura, Past Adashi - Freeform, Post-War, Rated Mature for Later Chapters, SHEITH - Freeform, Slow Burn, TimeMage!Matt, Witch AU, background hunay, honestly mostly self-indulgent, i would like to include the new age citrus, prepare for some, witch!Shiro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-17 21:45:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17568497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birdsandivory/pseuds/birdsandivory
Summary: Barely a year or two had passed since the end of the plague that war had brought to his home, the tension of the woken darkness keeping many from rest having been lifted, leaving Shiro in higher spirits for the first time in his life. The past months had been difficult, the loss of many friends and a part of himself had made it simple to become lost, wandering for comfort in the remnants of a world he once loved. It was only in the action of others placing their faith in his hands, that of a witch, that spurred him to start rebuilding - to bring rehabilitation to his people and himself.He didn't expect that the world would also put the life of an angry feline with a deep, dark secret in his hands as well.But now that it has, the Galra Shifter turned cursed housecat - Keith - forces him to practice patience for the enemy, to find peace within himself, and test his will as he tries not to fall for the violet-eyed man beneath the hex.





	Licking Petals

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I'm so ready for this. I began writing up this AU sometime last year and I'm just now getting around to posting it, so that's kind of crazy. It's gonna be a wild ride, I hope you guys are ready, because I put a ton of work into this thing. <3

Despite the chill of the night air upon his skin, the atmosphere of a city bathed in stars and shadow felt ever lighter.

Barely a year or two had passed since the end of the plague that war had brought to his home - _a plague benevolent evil beyond the borders had wrought_ \- the tension of the woken darkness keeping many from rest having been lifted, leaving Shiro in high spirits as he made his way back to his apartment. The past months had been difficult, the loss of many friends and a part of himself had made it simple to become lost, wandering for comfort in the remnants of a world he once loved. It was only in the action of others placing their faith in his hands, that of a witch, that spurred him to start rebuilding - to bring rehabilitation to his people and himself.

It had begun with the touch of his hand here and there, mundane and a bit more handyman than was his nature, but he could never complain; fixing a broken window, repainting a door, or helping a neighbor with something small was never too much for him or too little for another. However, the mood hadn’t changed - people had still feared leaving their homes, how peace could be shattered in a mere instant, and they hid from the outside world.

It made the once bustling streets so desolate a place.

He’d wanted to start over, to prove that they could move on from the aftermath of battle and live without the ache of worry in their hearts.

It was why he’d refurbished a small, abandoned coffee shop in town - gave it a new name and atmosphere, allowed it to be overgrown with plants and become home to the smiling faces he’d stood beside in the thick of bloodshed. So far, it seemed to be working; it got the citizens of their small city to step out of their homes, gossip and laugh, see for themselves a brighter future.

Looking to his right arm, nothing but the enchanted workings of wood-bending druids giving it function, he smiled softly to himself - forebear like that of a tree trunk flexing as he curled a fist.

Losing it had been worth everything.

There was no shortage of strife, even as the days became brighter and fear slowly subsided, there was always work to be done; but for some grand reason, people saw what he had lost and the mere sight of Shiro still standing gave them comfort. He was unsure why they felt for him so strongly, but watching what the city was becoming with his help - now changing for the better each time he walked home - it was something he would never take for granted.

The sound of an angry howl from the alleyway interrupted his thoughts.

There was the heavy clunking and clattering of tin cans bumping into one another, the unsavory slide of trash from the bins hitting concrete with a squelch accompanied a chorus of barking dogs, and as Shiro curiously rounded the corner to take a peek of the situation - he noticed naught but the feral hiss of a --

“Cat?”

Immediately, he stepped into action, jogging toward two angry mutts he knew to be Thace and Ulaz - a pair he’d watched grow up under the care of Coran, a long time friend - and rushed to shoo them away. He was merely met with wriggling excitement and a few wet kisses on the backs of his hands, successfully detering their attention from the black bundle of fur he saw scram behind the alley dumpster. And with one final, loving pat to each of their heads, he waited patiently until the feline in distress silently hid before grabbing onto the nearest stick - which was only there by chance - and hurled it some ways away down the alley, the two dogs racing after it while simultaneously growling at each other in competition as he looked on rather amused.

They never changed.

Seeing it was safe, Shiro stepped over to the trash bin, moving it aside with a wrinkle of his nose, catching sight of the small cat and allowing himself a fond smile. “Hey, little guy. You okay?”

He was assaulted immediately.

A black blur with claws latched onto his calf, digging deep into his boots and biting at the leg of his pants, hoping to do some damage to little avail. Shiro couldn’t help but shake his head as he reached down to pick the furry creature up, holding it a ways from his face as a growl - though less intimidating than one would sound - wound down into a gutteral mewl. The witch noticed several small lacerations caked with dirt, small claws looking worn, retracting as the frantic heaving of that little ribcage slowed.

But what really caught his attention were two large, golden eyes slowly calming to a striking violet that was unsettlingly familiar, and Shiro’s only thought was --

 _What are you doing_ **_here_** _?_

“Hmm... you’re definitely not what you look like.” Those lavender hues stared questioningly his way, the small body giving out and slumping into his hands from exhaustion - but to Shiro, he couldn’t help but understand it as defeat. And as the gaze struck unrelenting, piercing despite his limp form, he wondered just what the creature expected.

The witch simply pulled the dirty thing to his chest, feeling the first drops of an evening shower on his brow.

“Let’s get you home. It’s safer.”

Fortunately, as wild as the cat seemed to be at first glance, it was surprisingly calm on the way home - tucked beneath Shiro’s vest, zipped to the top and keeping filthy fur mostly dry as shivers reverberated against the man’s chest. And once within the confines of a warm loft, it was near impossible to detach the feline from his coat, perhaps lack of comfort keeping small paws from wanting to walk on their own.

Pulling the kitten away and looking at its state of mess, he found it much easier to take in the brightness of those eyes, the fiery lines of crimson peaks upon his fur hidden beneath what looked to be weeks of hardened mud and grime. It was clear to see that he was holding no ordinary house cat, nor a mere stray or familiar of the like.

Shiro could smell the stench of a hex upon them, surely preventing the shifting back into their original form.

“You’ve sure got yourself cursed, haven’t you?”

The feline in his arms understood him well enough, because the tiny body began wriggling, trying to escape as though they were in danger - but Shiro held fast, chuckling a bit at the antics, attempting to appear warm to placate any ill feelings.

“Don’t worry, I think I can help-- ow!” Sharp fangs sunk into the index of his human hand, and he adopted a rather irritated expression as he was chewed on aggressively. “ _Or_ I could leave you like this.”

He tried not to feel satisfied as the hold tiny teeth had on his hand ceased and the creature slowly receded, opting to glare the witch’s way instead. “Thought so. You can stay here tonight, but I’m going to have to give you a bath.”

The howl that emerged from the cat’s mouth as Shiro took him by the scruff and over to the sink by his altar table would have been funny, had teeth akin to needles not found home in the man’s left shoulder.

“You _really_ are a pain, you know that?”

The trial of giving his new companion a washing was more trying than he expected, because the loud mewling was one thing, but the cursed kitten was all jagged ivories and claws - and he had to be thankful for the fact that his right arm was no longer flesh and blood, feeling still, but without pain. The cat clung to the trunk of his forearm, biting deep into wooden fingers and scratching his pliable prosthesis. Shiro didn’t think it much of an issue, aware that it would mend by morning, but the struggle getting the little guy clean was a test of the patience he long since mastered.

By the time he deemed his small friend fresh, he’d amassed a pile of fur in the trash bin and as he set the slightly damp ball of anger onto the counter after toweling him - he looked smaller and more fragile than at first glance, no longer weighed by caked shed and other more questionable materials.

Once dry, his appearance - as Shiro confirmed that he was indeed _male_ \- became more pleasing to the eye, ebony imbued in fiery flame making up for the sudden loss of mass. He pulled from a nearby cabinet a salve that he gently applied to several dry, scabbed over cuts littering the cat’s entire body, finding that he looked much healthier than he had at first glance.

“I think we can assume you’re clean enough. And I’m no _‘snap your fingers’_ healer, but with what I’ve given you, you should be fine.” Setting his new companion onto the floor for the first time since they arrived, he watched as paws dug into the plush carpet before the other bounced from one dark corner to another, perhaps searching for a place to hide. Knowing that he couldn’t escape for the moment, Shiro thought it likely that he may be waiting for the right time after he recovers, though it wouldn’t work well in his favor, as it was.

His kind were known to be distrusting, however.

If anything, Shiro was a man who made peace.

“Are you hungry?” He called, moving to step into the kitchen and raid his fridge, picking out one or two things he deemed ‘cat friendly.’ “I’ll go out and get the proper stuff for you tomorrow, but I think I have some chicken in here.”

Shiro could almost laugh at the snarl he received.

Cutting up a bit of meat he’d cooked up the night before, he placed it in a bowl and set it just in front of the sofa the feline chose to hide beneath - along with some water - ten paces or so from the small connected kitchen. There was no sign of a cold nose peeking from the shadow of the couch, nor was there the sound of shuffling movement, and the witch waited only a moment before standing and making his way silently out of the room; he was getting too uncomfortable in his heavy clothing to wait for something that wouldn’t happen right away.

Tiredly, he rummaged through the drawers of his bedroom, pulling from them a pair of sweatpants and a loose fitting t-shirt, kicking off his boots as he trudged to the bathroom to shower off what was left of the day from his skin. And once he was completely alone, turning on the water and stripping himself of his clothes until he deemed the stream warm enough to step beneath, he allowed his mind to wander while hands searched for the nearest bottle of body wash.

The Galra.

Shifting beings that thrived by use of powerful magic, oppressors of many before the war, had taken and taken until there was not much left for the human race but fear. And though their rule had ceased for the time being, still, the very memory of their reign lingered; it was a horrific stain in the heart of many residing in his homeland that would never be erased.

And now, there was one of them where he slept.

But Shiro swore by peace now that all battle had ended, never wishing to lay a hand on one undeserving, and until he knew the truth - he couldn’t leave the cursed to fend for themselves on their own.

That kind of life…

He pulled a hand through his hair, the smell of peppermint wafting through the steam, relaxing him despite the heavy thoughts plaguing his mind. There was so much disgrace in their world, disguised by beauty, uprooted by cruelty - he didn’t want to be a part of that. The world he wished to create, the one he was rebuilding, would have a place for all.

Even those whom he once considered the enemy.

It was decided then, and allowing himself to surrender to the warm spray of water on his skin, he finished washing up - turning off the shower and moving to dry off and get dressed.

Minutes later, he made his way back into the living room, wincing as he brushed through the strands of his long, off-colored locks - quickly spotting the bowls that had gone untouched, the cat surely still beneath the sofa. Setting down the brush, he dropped to his knees before the couch again, looking underneath it to confirm the feline was there - violet eyes like volatile beacons in the darkness.

“Do you plan on coming out anytime soon?” Shiro ignored how pointless it was, to speak to the other when he couldn’t answer back, but communication of any kind - even one-sided - was powerful. He was exhausted himself, though, and after sitting awkwardly against his couch until the position became uncomfortable, he stood with a defeated sigh. “Well, if you’re not going to eat, _I’m_ going to bed. It’s late and I’ve got work tomorrow.”

His steps were a slow chorus across the ground, hesitant as he reached the doorway of his quarters, because no matter who refused him - no matter the circumstances in which they came from - he could never turn his back on anyone.

Taking one last meaningful look toward glowing eyes in the shadows, the witch pressed even lips into a thin line, wrapping scarred fingers around the width of the frame surrounding him.

“I don’t know who you are, but I know where you came from.” Shiro was a man soft in word when he wished to be, devoid of malice and still, the cat remained unmoved by them. “But... I _will_ help you.”

Bare feet stepping into soft carpet, he moved back to the bedroom, not bothering to look back again before reaching to shut off the lights and fall heavily into bed. His hair was still slightly damp, cold where it was splayed across his shoulders, and though he was tired - he knew sleep would not easily come.

There was still so much that ached when he closed his eyes.

It was hours later, falling into slumber, that he hoped the rise of another day would heal him anew.

 

* * *

 

When he awoke the next morning, he thought first of his companion - surely on edge throughout the entirety of the night. Shiro didn’t fret, merely going through the motions normally, dressing comfortably in black after brushing his teeth, his tight-suited top tailored to allow his right arm exposure. And with practiced ease, he pulled his hair back into a high, loose ponytail - prepared for the day.

Walking out into the living room, he was pleased to see the bowl of chicken he’d left out the night before was wiped clean, his furry friend curled upon the arm of the sofa. It was an endearing sight to say the least; Shiro - though he loved creatures, whether shifters of the mystic or otherwise - had never been one for company, and definitely not one for familiars or the cursed. Despite his charming, friendly demeanor, he liked his loneliness. His sorrows and his thoughts, he wanted them to remain his alone.

Still, the time he had with his new companion, he would enjoy.

New, refreshing experiences were hard to come by in the world as of late.

Walking briskly past the other to grab his keys and black shoulder bag from the table, he gathered the feline’s attention, drowsy meows turned hisses sounding as he leapt from his perch and back underneath the sofa. Shiro only found it amusing that he’d hide, but it was expected, he supposed.

Crouching down, he let himself rest against the foot of the couch, wooden hand planted along the floor just beside the empty food bowl. He couldn’t stand just how incriminating their positions seemed, how overwhelming he must be to a being who was forcefully trapped within such a small body; Shiro thought instead of the cat’s strength of will, how they hadn’t much a choice other than to sit as they were, despite the fact that he knew them to be equals.

Perhaps not to many others, but that would change.

He kept his voice a soothing bell as he spoke, attempting not to delve into the territory of interrogation. “Are you going to let me help you?”

Silence followed, but the witch didn’t allow it to discourage his plight. There was a word in him that spoke only of the other’s fear, nothing more and nothing less, and that it was something he could wash away with promises he intended to keep. “I can fix this, but only if you give me the chance.”

It was gentle, but that wouldn’t quite do either.

And then, there was the truth.

“You don’t have to live this way… I can’t guarantee that people will be thrilled with who you really are, but I will swear it to secrecy until I reverse this curse. What you do with your freedom will be yours.” And, in that way, he was right - though it felt painful that it was so, because he couldn’t ensure the safety of one he so suddenly took responsibility for. Shiro had to bite back the thought of what the aftermath could bring, instead tapping the ground with his earthen fingertips, the tune only ceasing as a strike of lightning crossed his path - paws settling a few feet away, a stare so piercing striking his own, he had to wonder just who held that gaze.

He was by no means trusted, but something _had_ changed.

The witch took a deep breath. “Will you let me help you?”

A feral, throaty noise was all the reply he needed.

“Then let’s get going, I have a few sources waiting for me at the cafe.” He failed to mention the fact that said sources were those whom had lost much during the war time to the Galrans, but he expected his companion to know as much, seeing as he’d lost himself so far into human territory. Shiro was unsure of just how long the shifter had been in such a state, but it was clear that it had been time enough, if he was to so readily allow a witch to assist; or perhaps he thought he hadn’t any choice, he was sure the creature feared, despite the fact that he gave himself up for cause.

His eyes remained on Shiro’s every move.

Standing and holding his wooden limb outward, he silently offered the cat a ride in his arms, but it was quickly declined, the other trotting to the door with the man steps behind him instead.

Their trek through the city streets had been peaceful, the shifter making detours here and there, only to make his way back to Shiro’s side later. Several paces separated them, but the witch didn’t bother to think of the rift, and paid more attention to saying ‘good morning’ to Slav, sweeping at the front porch of the Recreation Center, or telling Romelle that he would definitely be by later that week to fix her loose window shutters as she passed him by.

It wasn’t until he was waving to Coran, walking a proud Thace and Ulaz, that he noticed the distance becoming vast - the cat rushing over to the pair of canines, baring teeth and claw and hissing their way until Shiro ran to pick him up, carefully depositing him into his bag with an apology to his friend as a furry head popped in and out of the opening - angry snarls breaching the air until the alleged enemies were out of sight.

The rest of the trip was uneventful after that.

They came to the entrance of _The Witch’s Brew_ just before opening, the wild vines along the door frame bringing a smile to Shiro’s face; ever since they’d begun serving the public, things had been shining a bit brighter.

Perhaps it marked a new beginning for _all_.

Reaching out to grab for the doorknob, the cat motionless against his back, Shiro flinched as the heavy wood swung open itself - revealing two, beautifully blue and narrowed eyes, silver hair falling over dark skin in a loose braid laiden with flowers, and plush lips curled into a deep frown.

“I know what you’re holding, Shiro, and it is not welcome here.”

_I should have known._

“You realize this is _my_ coffee shop, right, Allura?” A seeress of many talents she was, the witch expected as much, however - he had his reasons, and he knew his friend would be an understanding and warm presence --

“That isn’t the point. I caught wind the moment you were in proximity and I need to know _why_.”

\-- in most cases. Still, he’d not budge, closing the distance and lowering his voice - bundle resting in his bag making a fuss to get out, clawing his way up and onto the man’s shoulder to stare at the woman before them. “He’s cursed, it seems, and I was hoping for your help.”

Long, alabaster lashes fluttered in disbelief at the sight of the shifter, a sputter erupting as thin arms crossed over her chest. “My help? Are you mad? I _refuse_ to help that--”

“Cat!” A tall, lanky man hovered over Allura’s shoulder, and Lance’s excited expression is almost as much of a giveaway as his shrill voice. “Is that our new store mascot?”

“Lance, go get those tables set up.” Parting ways from the door, Allura and Lance - the latter pouting as he did what he was told, muttering something about hierarchy in the workplace - made room for a much shorter companion, donned in a long, flowing cape, hood drawn from their freckled face. Unlike the seeress’ serious gaze, they seemed immediately lured to the eyes of the cat with him, calculating and knowing. They hummed. “That doesn’t look like just any cat to me... Familiar? That isn’t like you.”

“Not quite, Pidge. I’m certain this cat was once… human.” Looking to Allura, he spoke in silent gesture with a hard stare, asking for her silence before regarding his perceptive companion. “And I think he needs our help.”

“Human?” Reaching forward, pale hands with nails painted a venomous green wrapped around the furry feline, surprising Shiro with the lack of resistance the other was met with. They held him to their chest, brushing slender fingers over the clean, silken fur. The witch nearly felt off-put by the difference in treatment, but Pidge had a knack for bringing comfort wherever they went - quirkiness aside. “Do you think we can save him?”

Shiro sighed in response, moving to step into the cafe before saying anything more, taking in the sight of Lance pushing in the last of the chairs and walking off into the kitchen. Making his way to the table nearest the window overlooking vines and flowers of all sorts, he took a seat, his friends following suit. “I don’t know, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Hey - a cat!” Interrupted by a jolly exclamation, four sets of colored hues looked up to see Hunk, fresh-faced and tied up in an old apron, covered here and there with flour; he must have been preparing pastries for the day, as he should be, what with him being their only baker. As soon as he made it over to them, however, he pointed an accusing index at their newest arrival. “Not a cat.”

“Human.” Pidge remarked with an incline of their head.

“Ah.”

Decidedly, and thankfully, Allura kept quiet - though her eyes followed the shifter’s every move as small paws brought a lithe body onto solid ground, the bundle of fur scurrying to hide behind the nearest potted plant. Across from Shiro, spotted hands adjusted round spectacles. “So, what’s your plan for now?”

Leave it to Pidge to ask all of the hard questions.

“I’m not sure. Try a few different charms and potions - the basic breaking spells. I’m not really aware of the kind of power I’m dealing with yet.” The last thing he wanted was to begin his trials blindly; unaware of the conditions the curse may have, it was best to take it slowly, one remedy at a time.

Lips pursing, they nodded solemnly, looking off to the corner of the room where they knew the cat to be. “I sure wish he could tell us. It’d be easier if we could communicate.”

Allura, taking her attention from the cursed, turned pointedly to the other beside her - eyes wide as though she’d been struck with just the right idea. “Actually, I might know of a way. Perhaps Shiro could accompany me to see Shay on the other side of town. She’s always been rather good at these things.”

A loud bang sounded, and the group looked to Hunk, quickly fixing the shelves of the pastry box he’d dislodged at the mention of Shay’s name; he could never quite control himself where she was involved. “Aww, why do _you_ get to go see Shay?”

“Don’t worry, big guy, I’m sure she’ll ask about you,” Lance chimed in from behind him, patting his back with a grin before he moved to join the others at their table. “What are you going to see her for anyway?”

Allura sat back in her seat, crossing one leg over the other. “We’re going to find a charm that will allow the cat to speak with us.”

“Wait, we get a shop mascot that can _talk_? Magic is so cool, man.”

Pidge seemed mildly aggravated at the man’s ignorance, but Shiro supposed it was hard to see how incredible something otherworldly was to a human that rarely had the luck to witness it despite the company he kept.

Lance was just never at the right place at the right time.

Instead of being the one to answer, however, the witch simply leant forward in his seat - readily agreeing with the idea. He didn’t dare mention the fact that he expected Allura to have an ulterior motive; it would reveal itself soon enough. “Let’s get going, then. It’s about time to open anyway, we shouldn’t take up the morning crowd’s space.”

“Very well.” Standing, the seeress pulled from her pocket a golden amulet, a rather giddy glint in her eye. “Shay moved her shop a few weeks ago, and I’m not _particularly_ good with direction, so with this new trinket - I’ll scry on the location and --”

“Uh, Google Maps says it’s two miles west.” Lance cut in, showing the screen of his cellphone to Allura, having looked it up the moment she mentioned its moving and effectively dimming her excitement; she was looking rather annoyed, but if she wished to snap, she decidedly held her tongue. Turning her back and heading toward the door, she wasn’t too silent with the expletives spilling from her lips in a manner one would deem ‘unladylike’ as she shoved the amulet back into her pocket, though.

Shiro stood then, following suit as he shot a sympathetic look Lance’s way, receiving confusion in return. “What did I do?”

“You know Allura doesn’t like relying on modern tech.”

“So, she wants to ‘scry on the location?’ That’s so eight centuries ago!”

If he was expecting to receive an answer as the two set out, he found that he’d be sorely disappointed.

 

* * *

 

With the absence of Shiro and Allura came the bustling crowd into the shop.

The minutes passed quickly and soon, the cafe was open for business, though the morning was seemingly slow; the three left behind expected it would pick up once the thick of traffic was out and about, everyone scrambling to get to work after hitting their snooze buttons one too many times. The smell of fresh pastries would bring them in and the warmth of a cup of coffee would surely ease their worries. It was the simplicities, the little things, that always helped the people of their city cope.

Until customers came running in, Lance kept himself occupied.

“C’mon little buddy - just one pet.” Reaching behind the flower pot that the shifter had housed himself behind, he touched a spot of fur, grinning at the small victory before a ferocious bite had him reeling back - taking hold of his injured fingers. “Ow! You’re mean.”

“Leave him alone, Lance.” Pidge was quick to come to the rescue, kneeling before the feline with one hand extended, speaking calmly. “Come with me. There will be people here soon and I’m pretty sure you don’t want to deal with them.”

Piercing eyes watched the man their owner had bitten as his small body stepped forward, not once shirking his gaze until he was within two warm arms. Lance looked a little miffed as he leant against one of the tables, arms crossed and a pout on his lips; they couldn’t help but feel a bit smug.

“Going to your cave?” He asked, pretending to be interested in the shine of his fingernails.

“Yep.” Walking past the taller man, they nudged their foot to open the door to their study just beyond the dining area - looking back to shout over a pointed shoulder. “Save me a turnover, Hunk.”

“You got it!”

With a nod, the pair disappeared, entering a small room housing plants that grew to the height of the sky - various vials full of colored liquids littering every flat surface. Pidge swept several aside without once thinking of the consequences that came with dropping them, setting the cat down before giving him one last pet on the head and backing away. “You can sit here, it won’t bother anything.”

There was several minutes of quiet as they tidied up and grabbed a notebook from a far table, picking through a cup of several ink pens, plucking from it one they deemed useable. The hooded enigma looked about to say something each time the cat gazed up at them, lips pressing into a thin line as they sat upon a bench at the table he was placed on. And eventually, after scribbling a few observations, they did just that. “Are you afraid that you’ll be this way forever?”

They didn’t get an answer and, somehow, the fact was disappointing.

“Don’t worry, if anyone can find a way for you to communicate with us, it’s Allura.” Pidge’s capable hands were constantly tinkering when they weren’t skimming through a book or caressing petals as though they were cultivated treasures, only looking to the other when he happened to make any sudden movement. They were used to working alone, after all.

“I wish I could, but, I’m not magical like that,” they mused, picking from a small pot a bundle of herbs, bringing them to a pestle and mortar at the corner of the work table. “I’m just good with plants, like the flowers around the cafe, the species somehow surviving where they aren’t supposed to be? All me.”

The right corner of Pidge’s lips twitched upward, looking a bit prideful. “I mean, I can make a mean tonic, too.”

Tail a ruby flame flickered in the air, and if a cat could possibly look bored, they would say that he nailed the expression. Still, Pidge took advantage of the fact that he couldn’t speak at all, letting him become an outlet they hadn’t had since the last time they spoke to their brother and father in the same room.

“My brother, Matt, he’s a horologist - doesn’t believe in magic, says it’s all science disguised by languages of old, smoke and mirrors.” Waving a hand dismissively, it became easier to dismiss the ignorance as a joke, not quite explaining just how lonely it made them feel. Once upon a time, Pidge and Matt had been on the same wavelength - and now, they couldn’t be further apart. “In this day and age, can you believe it?”

He was watching them with interest then, suddenly up and perched upon the edge of the table, giving them what they would accept as a skeptical mewl.

“Yeah, I’ve seen too much not to believe,” hands paused in their task, one smelling of dew carting across the feline’s soft head, “and you’re living proof, you know that?”

The more feral of the two seemed unnaturally calm at the touch, not asking for more than they gave, nor pulling away with the flick of his tail - he simply looked up at them with big, violet eyes, and that was enough. “I can’t wait to have an actual conversation with you. I know it must be hard, not being able to say what you want to say, what you _need_ to say.”

Exhaling a painfully slow breath, Pidge nearly felt relieved of the burden of unspoken words, releasing a barely audible hum - as though they’d been waiting for the right moment to voice their thoughts. “I’m really curious, too, you know? I wonder who you were, who you must be--”

And, just like that, agile legs carried a furry body hastily from atop the cluttered counter to the cracked door of a small cabinet, turning away from their words as though he didn’t believe them - paw clawing at the narrow opening until there was room enough for the lithe form to disappear through.

"Or, I guess... I don't need to know."

Pidge went back to their work silently.

**Author's Note:**

> Come scream with me on Tumblr! I'm [birdsandivory](http://birdsandivory.tumblr.com) on almost every social media site imaginable. And leave me comments about my boys, I'd love to know what you guys think!


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